


Hanakotoba

by kindaeccentric



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Hannibal is a Cannibal, I was trying not to make them awfully ooc, Language of Flowers, M/M, Murder Husbands, Murder Kink, Murder Mystery, Other, Post-Finale, will be continued, will contain some poetic smut later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:44:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7222873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindaeccentric/pseuds/kindaeccentric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Berlin's police has a problem with a serial killer, who has a thing for flowers. Will and Hannibal running through Europe finally make a stop at this cold metropoly and curiousity takes over.<br/>Their relationship is at it's honeymoon stage, altough their moon always was and will be bloody.</p><p> </p><p>Disclaimer: It's basically my half-artistic, half-slashy take on what happens after season 3 featuring some personal ideas that will never come true even if we get season 4. Alternative future of sorts.</p><p>(I'm never using German again. Never.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hanakotoba

**Author's Note:**

> I will not make it into chapters (well, so I shouldn't post it unfinished, but hell, I'm doing it again anyway, I'm a slut for instant validation). It can be read without the updates too thou I believe.  
> I will be writing the list of updates in the end notes, because I'm a terrible human being and I don't want to have to de-chapterize (is it even a word) it later and make a mess. If you think it's a stupid idea-tell me. But it will have like three major updates at most in next few weeks, so... I don't know.
> 
> Plus, it will be probably a part of a trilogy Hanakotoba-Ikebana-Kintsugi
> 
> I know, I'm making a mess already, but consider this: it will all make sense in the end ;] Thank you.

The body of a young, fit woman was laying on top of a piano, her long, curly hair falling down the keys in a cascade. She was a natural golden blonde. Her skin even after death stayed the colour of honey. Her brown eyes were open, her face the first thing you could see upon entering the room. She had a slightly too big nose, but was beautiful nonetheless with high cheekbones and small, yet full lips like a doll, but already turned bluish. She was naked except for the flowers decorating her form. The flowers were also in her hair and on the floor around the piano. Thoughtful composition made of currently blossoming golden chain tree brunches white peonies and candles. However, just one floral scent dominated in the room, the scent of jasmine. The police investigator took a photo of her hand dangling from the edge. The other was making notes and reporting to the chief.

  
‘We think it’s Jasmine Harold, British tourist. Disappeared yesterday from a friends birthday party. Probably poisoned, but we’ll wait for toxicology. Perfumes are a new element. You can buy it on the Internet, but we'll try to check online shops anyway. The body is clean, makeup was erased.’  
German polizei was investigating the case of the 'Blumenmörder' since many months without any trace. First victim was found in August. Rosa, an hourglass figure with red hair and skin white as snow died in her exclusive apartment covered in light blue hydrangea and greenish carnations. She was first victim and the killer let the white sheets of her bed soak with blood. The second murder took place only in early spring, a young man, Linden, skinny and tattooed, strangled in his lake house and wrapped partially in his own silver bedsheets, his head surrounded by yellow narcissus flowers. It was actually an unpleasant surprise to find a next victim so quickly.  
‘Seems like they became more comfortable with killing by now…’ said the chief investigator.

  
***

  
Hannibal entered the flower shop. The specific aroma of plants, water and dirt felt fresh and familiar. He always believed the artificial air fresheners to be in extremely bad taste, so he was glad it was not a case there. He looked at the corpulent woman behind the counter. She smiled at him sweetly. 'Wie kann ich Ihnen hel´fen?' she asked politely.  
'Ich habe gehört, daß ich hier eine gute Floristin finden kann.'  
He didn't even finish his line, when a young, pretty brunette came into the shop from behind the staff door. She had a professional black dress on. She immediately spotted Hannibal and smiled in a trained way.  
'Hier kommt der Star des Hauses', started the corpulent woman, but the girl cut her off.  
'I'll take this one mother, thank you'. The older woman didn't even try to discuss it, she just obediently left.  
Hannibal knew he found exactly who he was looking for.  
'Frau Eckhart?'  
'Yes. How can I help you?'  
'I wanted to buy flowers for someone very dear to me'  
The girl looked at him closely, but couldn't quite figure him out, which was rather unsettling. She turned away from him and made a few steps to the counter in the middle as for to look around the shop in search for something fitting, touched the violet flowers in one of the buckets and her eyes landed back on him. Hannibal noticed she grabbed a tiny knife on her maneuver. She wasn’t particularly hiding it, but not showing it off either.  
'Purple carnations maybe?'  
'I would prefer something more sophisticated, to commemorate a long, difficult, but beautiful relationship', he said stepping closer. She looked baffled.  
'Oh, I'm sorry. I'm used to tourist. They only buy flowers to get into woman's pants. What are your intentions then? What do you want to say to that... special someone?'  
Hannibal smiled sweetly the same way she did a moment before. She definitely was the person he wanted to find.

  
***

  
Hannibal didn’t tell Will were they were going, but Graham didn’t care. The promise of safety was enough to convince him. After they left America they were running around in circles for months, changing names, houses and professions, living in small towns of east Europe, healing their wounds, sharing meals and sleeping in double beds. Hannibal always managed to get them close to art and more refined things in life, although most of the time they were on the verge of savagery. Willl was making friends with stray dogs and fishing, Hannibal hunted and weaved pretty lies. It was easy, just going with the flow, to succumb to the rhythm of life.

However, with Hannibal around, everything was tinted red. Living together made them more comfortable with each other, chatting and joking about random things almost like normal people, but the dawn belonged to the demons and their late-night talks were filled with bloody dreams about the future, wine and memories of the past. The most recent memories were the most bittersweet, when they tried to sew themselves back together after killing the dragon. Hannibal’s steady hands changing the bandages on him and Will changing his voluntarily. Hannibal’s suggestive smile when Will’s hands rested on his stomach, chills down Will’s spine. Will deliberately being coarse, but only making Hannibal more gentle. The warmth on the other side of the bed and the breath.

All this eventually led to a moment when they broke into a house of a man who left for vacation, and when Will went to search for some alcohol in the fancy kitchen, Hannibal followed. Graham felt a hand resting on his hip, so he laid his head back on his friend’s shoulder. Hannibal turned him around and leaned in intimately close. Their lips met, not in a kiss yet, but in a sort of connection, that was making the way for further discovery, that could follow shortly after. They were balancing on the edge again, waiting in anticipation to give each other a sign to move. Will pressed his mouth a little stronger to Hannibal's and that gave Lecter an invitation for gentle intrusion. Will felt the first notes of the kiss played on his lips and went along to dance. The fall into each other’s arms was sweeter, but just as dangerous as everything before. The warmth, the wetness, the tongue tasting and being tasted. Somewhere on the peripheries of consciousness-the teeth, the bite. They were not synchronized at first, sloppy almost, but it was so much more like them, like the chase of the predator and the hunter. Hannibal touched Will’s face and Graham for a moment felt the rush of adrenaline, the memory of knife penetrating his guts tingling under the touch. He nearly forgot he’s got a scar from the dragon. Lecter seemed focused and determined like when he was killing, but his aim was different.

Then Hannibal pulled Will in and closed the little space that was left between them embracing his waist. Graham put one of his hands on his shoulder. Hannibal's heart was pounding strongly, his chest moving with every breath, his clean-shaved cheeks not so clean-shaved after all, the arousal getting obvious and his hold firm and persistent. It felt good, but Will needed a mental breath, so he broke the kiss. He had to jerk his head back and to the side, and push Hannibal away, because he wasn't keen to let him go and chased his lips with his own. Lecter’s state of mind was constant, but it was constancy of the tide, changing his reactions and moving between cold analysis and impulsivity, usually the two overlapping. His muscles contracted ready to attack, yet he stepped back almost heartbroken and just a bit angry for a moment, but hid it right away and was back to his stone-like expression. He desired Will in many ways, but violating him like that wasn't an option, both because he needed Will to want him by his own choice and personally would never sexually assault anyone. Then he realized from the look on Graham's face that he's not rejected. Will’s neck was completely exposed and his half-lidded eyes glancing at him from under the lashes in quite a feminine fashion. The angelic man gave him a little, almost melancholic, smile. His lips were glistening, inviting and his lovely locks messy. Hannibal took a deep breath. Will closed his eyes for a moment that seemed to last eternity, then reached out his hand to touch the other’s chest, to grab his shirt and pull him back slowly. The next kiss was delicate. They were noticing new things, another sensations. Somehow the softness was more erotically charged. Will took Hannibal's hands that were hanging by his sides and pressed them to his own hips. Looking back, he knew the tension between them had to be resolved and believed only death could make it happen. Later it dawned on him he was only partially right. He felt safe with Hannibal finally, but for some reason he started to tremble. His partner noticed it.

  
‘Are you all right?’, he asked in-between smaller kisses.  
‘Yes… No. I mean… It's a lot to process.’, laughed Will nervously. ‘I have never kissed a man. I have never kissed anyone like you.’  
‘You are overwhelmed.’  
‘Yes.’  
Hannibal gave him one last kiss on the neck and smelled him there before he stepped aside and propped himself by the counter, just like Will.  
‘How do I smell?’  
‘Like nothing else, but you. You don't use any cologne for days.’  
‘I know you like me bare.’  
The man chuckled, Will smiled.  
‘I wasn't expecting it’, said Hannibal looking at him like he always was.  
‘You were. Maybe not today. But eventually. And I think I felt it too.’  
‘It's natural that being so close we developed physical attraction for each other. We are similar. And isn't it what people look for, someone like them to worship?’  
‘We compliment our own egos by admiring in others those values we are fascinated by in ourselves. But it's not everything, is it? Those things must be accompanied by some significant differences.’  
Hannibal smiled with his teeth bared. He was rarely doing that.  
‘Yes.’

  
***

  
The German Internet sites had to mention the latest threat in form of a wonderfully morbid murderer, and it straight away sparked Hannibal’s interest. They didn’t say a lot, so he seduced and drugged a policeman on their very first day there to find out more, much to Will’s disapproval.  
Will was looking through the window with a glass of wine in his hand and didn't bother to move upon hearing Hannibal coming in. He learned to recognize him by noises now. He remember the sound of his walk, rhythm of breathing, his coat being taken off and hanged, little satisfied hums.  
'I didn't expect you to like Germany, but there you are, happy like a duckling', he said loudly. Hannibal smiled to himself. Will turned into a real predator using his senses.  
'Since for now it would be risky to visit Italy, Berlin must do. It has museums, galleries and will allow us to lick our wounds in peace.'  
'Lick each other's wounds you mean.'  
'If you prefer. I brought something for you'  
Hannibal came close to Will and put a hand on his hip, with the other presenting a small bouquet of violet crocuses to him. Graham turned around with Hannibal's hand adjusting to his movement, but never leaving his body. They were practically pressed against each other, Will leaning against the windowsill.  
'Flowers?'  
'Yes. Do you like them?'  
'You are giving me flowers. Romantic and slightly disturbing. You wouldn't give me anything without meaning.'  
'I can assure you they're fitting. Someone helped me choose them for you'  
Will took the flowers from Hannibal and escaped his frame gracefully with a smirk.  
'Thank you… aren’t they poisonous?’, said Will softly and almost coquettishly before heading to the kitchen to put the flowers in the water.  
‘So are many beautiful things in this world, my boy…’  
Their current apartment was a compromise between Hannibal’s refinement and Will’s simplicity with dark walls and light wooden furniture with the exception of a long, elegant, burgundy sofa, from god knows where, Hannibal got when Graham told him he would like to have one. And of course, the bed. They slept together in a king-sized bed that previously belonged to a married couple, but didn’t test out its full potential yet. Not because they didn’t want to, but they were tasting the newly found intimacy slowly, savoring it, deliberately refraining from devouring each other in one bite. However, they were growing more eager and excited each day and given that their bodies recovered, there were no obstacles. From what Will observed with unexpected satisfaction, Hannibal was losing his composure every time they kissed.  
Lecter sat on their sofa and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt waiting for Will to get back. When he did, he placed himself next to Hannibal and caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, which Hannibal took and pressed to his lips as a sign of appreciation while looking at Will.  
‘Was I right?’, asked Graham silently.  
Lecter let go of his hand and Will continued to tease him by touching his neck and the skin under the unbuttoned collar. Hannibal’s gaze sharpened.  
‘Yes. It’s a woman. And a pretty one.’  
‘What will we do with her?’  
‘I don’t know yet. We’ll wait. Keep an eye on her. And now…Dinner?’  
‘I’m starving.’

  
***

**Author's Note:**

> original upload:2016-06-17  
> corrections:2016-06-17


End file.
